Page 25 of Without Judgment

“Yep.”

It was as though yesterday at the burger place was a figment of my imagination. The easy conversation, the smiles, and what I’d thought was the start of a friendship had been replaced by one-word answers and a giant step back. There could only be one explanation.

“Are you upset about last night? About what happened?”

That got his attention. He met my gaze, his jaw tense. “Nothing happened last night. Nothing.”

“Then you’re not upset about the water?” Because it appeared he was.

He held my gaze for a full minute as if he was assessing me. Then he seemed to relax. “No, I’m not upset about the water.”

“Okay.” I sat down at the kitchen table across from him, eating my dinner in silence until I couldn’t take it anymore. “Do you want me to look at your website?”

“Don’t you have other things to occupy your time?”

Sadly, no. Although I’d done a lot of research on colleges today and read books that had me encouraged to find myself, I wasn’t quite there yet. “Not at the moment. I like this type of thing.” Truth was, I desired the challenge and found it interesting.

He slid his laptop over, much to my surprise. “I’m trying to follow your advice and find a logo, but I fear I went down a rabbit hole of photos on the Internet.”

I took a bite of my dinner and then looked at his Google image search. “Did you search stock photos?”

“What’s a stock photo?”

“All images are licensed and subject to copyright. You have to go to websites where they are selling photos if you want to use one legally. Some of the bigger stock photo websites will have a variety of options.” I clicked on Shutterstock and had him take a look at the results after I typed in ‘military logos.’

“Huh. How much are the photos?”

“Not very much. You just have to be certain they are licensed for use on your website. You could also have one designed, but it would cost you more.”

“Stock it is, then. I like the red, white, and blue or something dark gray. Maybe that star.”

I studied the one he was pointing at. “I could play with it in Photoshop. Do you mind?”

“Only if you have the time.” He got up, crossing to the refrigerator. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Um, sure. Water, please.” His moods were giving me whiplash. “If you need your computer, I can work on it on mine, but I’d need the password for your website.”

He returned with two glasses. “I think I’m done with my computer for today. Damn thing gives me a headache. The password for it is on the sticky note on top though. But again, only if you have the time.”

His face showed his fatigue. I wondered if he’d been as sleepless as I had last night but dismissed the thought. As he’d declared, nothing had actually happened.

Yes, I’d seen his erection. One of only two examples I’d ever seen in my life. But I’d also woken him up. In my limited experience, that sometimes happened with men in the morning. A hard-on didn’t mean it was for me or because of me. I ate in silence and played with his website over the next hour while he quietly wrote in a notebook. I glanced over and could see it was a list, but his handwriting made it hard to see the words.

I wondered if this job and having to be here with me was putting him behind in his other work. The thought had crossed my mind more than once. I speculated it could be responsible for his bad mood since day one.

“What made you choose security?”

He shrugged. “It’s something that’s always appealed to me. I enjoy owning my own business.”

“Nobody telling you what to do all the time like the Marines.”

“You could say that. Although at that point, I needed the discipline. Now I appreciate the freedom.”

I put my chin in my hand, studying him. Wanting to discover more about him. He was such a mystery. It didn’t help that I’d seen his tattoos and fantasized about licking them. “Why did you need the discipline? Were you a rebel?”

He stood up abruptly. “Something like that. What’s on the agenda tomorrow?”

And boom. His walls came down. “Nothing. Staying in.”

His expression bordered on incredulous. “No more luncheons, spa appointments, or shopping trips?”

My temper flickered but then quickly doused when I thought of what the day represented. I dreaded it every year. Not even Mason’s opinion of me or his teasing could distract me from the oncoming sorrow.

“No. Not tomorrow. See you later.” The sound of my chair scraping back was the only one that filled the room as I got up. I left his laptop on the table and walked into the theater room to be by myself.

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